Legend of the Seeker: Kingdom of the Knight
by King of 2211
Summary: In a time of great need, a young man by the name of Galwyn Ginnis must aid the Company of Fifteen, led by the Prince of the enslaved Kingdom of Gotham; Bruce Wayne. Along the way, Galwyn must face many challenges as well as regain his lost memories. First series in the Seeker Saga. BW/WW, OC/OC or other. Not good with summeries. T for violence and language
1. Prologue: Memories Lost

**Hey, what is up FanFiction? The name's King of 2211 and I am here to tell you that I am trying a hand at Justice League and thought I'd make it an old world like two other fics that I have forgotten at the moment. Anyway, I hope this at least satisfies even a tiny bit as some of the characters might be slightly OCC, to tell you the truth, this is he first time doing a fic on JL. If there's anyone who knows or at least has a substantial amount of info for he characters or at least their tone, do not hesitate to send me a PM. Well, with all that our of the way, DC owns the characters and names of he locations of which I turn into kingdoms (with some familiar faces), I only own the OCs and the made up locations, with references and dialogue and scenes that has been borrowed from The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings movies. On with the show!**

**P.S.**

**This will be a WW/BM mostly, with only slight SM/WW, pairing soon.**

* * *

_Oh, misty eye of the mountain below,_

_Keep careful watch of my brothers' souls,_

_And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke . . ._

_Keep watching over Durin's sons . . ._

**I See Fire, by Ed Sheeran**

* * *

**Prologue**: Memories Lost

* * *

Long ago, in a time long since forgotten, there were three flourishing kingdoms, each with its own culture: the technologically advanced Krypton, the agricultural Gotham, and the island paradise of Themyscira. Krypton, the largest of the three kingdoms, was a dazzling that was utopia with castles made entirely out of crystal. Though being the most scientific of the three kingdoms, Krypton was also known for its fair share of magic and worships of the only Kryptonian god of light and the goddess of darkness; Rao and Cythonna. What else that was known was their forms of combat: Torquasm-Vo, which is similar to Chinese Kung Fu; and Horo-Kanu, which utilizes the pressure points in the body. Even as the King and Queen ruled this kingdom, it was the council that had made the rules and each from a specific House (another term for family or clan). Though each house were well-known, none were better known as the militaristic House of Zod or the House of El, of which ruled Krypton with authority and honor.

Themyscira, or Paradise Island as it was sometimes called, was a lush, island paradise that was home to the warrior women that were known only as the Amazons. Though the Amazons mostly kept to themselves and rarely allowed any form of outsiders, especially the opposite sex, near their shores, they'd occasionally sent out ambassadors to keep the peace. As they were originally from Greek territory and as such, they worshiped the Gods of Olympus (mostly the females). Though very few to none at all trusted the world of man, thinking they are vile, selfish, dishonorable pigs that only thought of the female gender as objects of lust and domination; some were more opened minded that there was **_some_** good, though they dared not to leave the island. Though the Amazons weren't at all immortal, they were ageless when they grew to a certain age, but that didn't mean death would ignore their existence. The island itself was protected by a veil that not only camouflaged to keen unwanted "visitors" out, but those who had left the island without consult of the queen or patron gods (or goddesses), the Amazon would be cursed for the rest of their days. As they were warrior women, the Amazons were highly skilled in Greco-Roman combat and possessed feats that no mortal being could ever comprehend or imagine, even in their wildest dreams. Unlike Krypton or Gotham, Amazons were allowed to propose challenges to become the next queen of Themyscira, even if they had to go to extreme measures to do so . . .

Finally, Gotham was a kingdom of many virtues: loyalty, equality, unity, truth, trust and above all else; justice. Though most royal families would rule their kingdoms with cruelty or an iron fist, that was never the cause as Gotham was watched over by the Wayne Royal Family. The Waynes were true rulers, kings and queens alike, who treated and served their people with fairness and cared about their well-being. It was one of the descendants, a man known as Solomon Wayne, had led a victorious revolt against an evil dictator known as Vandal Savage, who was threatening war on many kingdoms (including Gotham) and single-handedly demolished slavery throughout the land. The kingdom itself was also known for its unique combat as it resembled many Asian Martial Arts, more particularly Ninjitsu since most of the techniques involved stealth. Gotham, like the other kingdoms, worshiped deities, but these deities were vastly different from all else: Azrael, the Angel of Life and Death; Nocturna, the Maiden of the Shadows; Yin-Ying, the Duke of Stealth; Sapien, the Wise Watcher; Spectre, The Soldier of Strength; Luma, the Queen of the moonlight; And Koumori, the King of the Bats and the very symbol of Gotham. However, like other kingdoms, there are also evil in the shadow of good in Gotham; Al-Owai, the King of Owls, Koumori's twin brother and his sworn enemy.

Years ago, war was upon these three kingdoms, not with each other, but against a common threat in the form of King of the Kingdom Apokolips, Uxas Khan or known as the evil sorcerer; Darkseid. In his quest for supremacy, Darkseid allied himself with the traitorous Kryptonian military leader; Zan-Zod, as well as Ares, the Greek God of War. Zan-Zod was once the head of the House of Zod, until his ambitions became the best of him and had tried to usurp the throne of Krypton. Ares was vastly known for his lust of battle and bloodshed, but was also a master manipulator when he seduced the current Amazon Queen of Paradise Island; Hippolyte. Though it was unknown who was responsible for the attack on Gotham, it was speculated that it was due to an evil cult known as the Court of Owls. The cabal itself dated back thousands of years before Gotham was built and were loyal followers to Al-Owai; dedicating what they did in the Owl King's name. It would be in battle that three individuals from Royal Families of the Three Kingdoms: Prince Thomas Wayne of Gotham, Prince Jor-El of Krypton, and Queen Hippolyte of Thmyscira. Though the three did trust each other at first, Hippolyte still recovering from Ares' deceit that gave her great animosity towards men, they learned to swallow their pride and work together as they led their armies to victory. Each of the three held swords that were passed down in their kingdoms: Swift Fang, the Sword of Night; Rao-Ahn, the Sword of the Sun; and Anaklusmos, the Sword of Waves. Though different in appearance and power, only thoughts who were worthy were able to unsheathed these mystical swords from their scabbards.

With his army defeated and allies captured, Darkseid was force to flee, but swore he would return to exact revenge one day on the Three Kingdoms and any other that stood in his path. Zod, for his treason against Krypton, was banished to the Phantom Zone, a realm that held dangerous prisoners, while Ares was imprisoned on Themyscira, since he was the son of Zeus, he was protected from death. With the war over, Hippolyte saw that not all men were as vile as she thought, but couldn't help but feel envious when she saw both Thomas and Jor-El were to become fathers. Longing to be a mother herself, but seeing that the one man she loved would only age and eventually die while she remained the same age, she prayed to the Gods of Olympus for a child of her own. It soon became clear that Ares' attack on Paradise Island, it wasn't safe for the Amazons to leave their island home. Gotham and Krypton was on edge, with Darkseid and the Court of Owls still at large, the three agreed that it'd be best they remained in their kingdoms, but would be by each other's side should Darkseid ever return. In secret, Hippolyte would send her most trusted friends as undercover ambassadors to Krypton and Gotham to make sure her allies were well. Years have passed since the war against Darkseid, the Three Swords hidden away to keep them out of evil's hands, and three heirs to the throne of the Three Kingdoms were born and as they would grow, Destiny would call and band them together . . . little did they know that a fourth would also band with them . . .

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**Solomon Village, Kingdom Blüdhaven; Present Day**

Walking through the crowds of the small village, in the beautiful midsummer sun was a man in his early fifties, who stood at least five feet tall with fair colored skin for his age, lean built body, short graying-black hair, short beard that was neatly trimmed and with equally graying hair, and icy-blue eyes. He wore a white long-sleeved shirt, black vest, matching black pants, and black leather boots. Though most people would think that a man like this would've stood out in any crowd as far as the eye could see, mostly because he was walking with a limp and had a cane to support him, they'd shrug it off after he'd wave casually with a friendly smile when he hobbled by. Yes, he was hobbling on his left leg as he walked by; the three-foot long cane with a ballpoint in his left hand making it painfully obvious that he had sustained an injury at some point in his life. It didn't seem to bother him though since it appeared that he had been like this for years now. It was then that he heard a ruckus to his left and saw four grown men, drunk by the sound of their laughter, pushing around a young teenage boy. After they were done pushing him around, two of the four men grabbed the teen by his arms and held him tight so he couldn't escape, no matter how much he struggled. Trying to aid the young man against the four drunks was out of the question as anyone who went near was either thrown away or punched in the face

"This'll teach what happens when you ignore my warnings . . ." The lead man said; he appeared to be six feet tall and ten inches, in his mid forties with a bulky built body tanned-Caucasian skin, long graying raven-black hair that appeared to be unkept, square jaw, long raspy beard that was also graying, and dim-green eyes. He wore a red tunic, black pants, and black boots. He grabbed the teen by the lapels oh his shirt, then cocked his fist back. "Ah told ye to stee away from m'ah daughter, maybe this'll knock some sense inte ye!"

The young teen clenched his eyes shut and braced for impact, but after a few seconds . . . Nothing came. The young man opened one of his eyes to see the look of shock on one of the of men that held him; same thing went to the one who stood on the sidelines. Looking in front of him, the young man also became shocked by what he saw; the short middle-aged man had appeared out of nowhere, and he was holding the taller man by the wrist. Though the drunken man had tried to pry himself free from the older man's grip, which was surprisingly strong for a man his age, it only brought pain the more he struggled.

"That . . . is enough . . ." The man stated in a low voice, then with only a slight flick of the wrist, the older man shoved the drunkard to the ground.

Needless to say, it was shocking to see the shorter man take on a man who nearly towered over him and stronger in appearance, but that wasn't up for debate. The drunk, enraged by the older man's action, threw a fist at him, but was surprised to see that the person was fast on his feet as his punch was dodged. The man swung another punch with his left fist, only the older man to sidestep, thrust the top of his cane into the drunkard's gut, winding him out, then swatted him in the back of the head with the cane. As his opponent fell to the ground, the man turned and faced the other drunks as the one on the sidelines ran up to him with a punch, only for the man catch the fist with his cane, pulled the drunkard inwards, then struck him in the chest with his forearm. With two of the drunks out of the way, the man hobble/marched towards them, but stopped a few feet away.

"Let him go!" The man demanded, pointing his cane at the two.

His demand went unheard as one of the drunkards rushed forward and wildly swung his fists as his friends did, only for the man to dodge, duck, then spun to plant the back of his right elbow into the drunk's face. The man didn't let up as he brought his right fist into the drunk's crotch, earning many cringes from all around, including the other drunkards and their captive. Taking advantage of his captor's distraction, the young man stomp on the drunk's foot, then reared his head back; knocking him out cold. The young man looked up to see the older man look at what happened with nothing more than a raised eyebrow, obviously impressed by what he saw, but didn't seem to notice the leader of the drunk's getting to his feet . . .

"Behind you!"

The man didn't need to be told twice, or at all as he sensed another incoming attack even before the young man alerted him. The man crouched as the drunk tried to grab from behind, elbow him in the gut; causing him to fall on his back. The Drunk shook off his daze, but was only able to get onto one knee when the man grabbed both ends of his cane . . . then pulled out a blade! Holding the "scabbard" of the sword-cane reverse-grip in his left hand as a bludgeon against the drunk's chest, then pointed the tip of the sword between the eyes.

"Do not think I won't kill you, filth . . ." The man growled, looking dead into the drunk's eyes. "It would be my pleasure."

"A-a-ah b-beg ye, kind sir, spear me . . ."

"Listen to me! I've heard gossip of a man getting drunk with his vandal friends and mistreating his wife and daughter; looks like I've found him. Hear me now for what I say, because I never repeat myself: you are going to stay away from those two ladies as well as that young man you tried to harm. If you or your friends choose to ignore this warning, let's put it this way, I have friends in the Royal Guard that'd love to through filth like you into the dungeons. Is that UNDERSTOOD?!"

"y-y-yes, yes!" The drunkard fearfully stuttered.

"Good, now then, take your friends . . . and GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" The man shouted with authority.

Not wanting to enrage the man any further, the drunkards scrambled to their feet, then ran away as fast as they could, not caring where they might end up. As soon as he knew for certain that the drunkards were out of sight, the man threw his sword into the air, held out the bludgeon as the blade fell in, twirled the cane in both hands, the pounded it to the ground with his left hand. His feeling of authority gone, the man looked towards the younger man and saw that he was unharmed, to which he was grateful for. Upon closer inspection, the man saw that the young lad was in his early twenties with a nicely toned body that had light-Caucasian skin, long orange-red hair that was tied back into a ponytail, and Jade-green eyes. Funny, this lad reminded him of an old friend he knew from the kingdom of Metropolis, but he was old by this time. Seeing that there was no more trouble, the man smiled to everyone around, then bowed.

"Stay out of trouble and have a good day."

With that said and done, the man continued to limp away as everyone around, the young man included, watched in awe. For a man his age and height, not to mention his apparent disability, he was able to take on three out of four men that were taller, stronger in appearance, and downright outnumbered him, yet he was able to take them down without effort. The young man had so many questions, too many that would take all day if they ever developed and became words right out of his mouth.

"Wait, who are you?" The young man called out.

"It's Galwyn!" The man known as "Galwyn" replied, though he continued on his way without turning around.

After a few minuets of walking around, greeting a few people, friend and stranger alike, Galwyn found himself standing in front of a one story tall house that was made of earth and wood. Opening and closing the small, wooden gate and walking up the path to the house, Galwyn admired how in good shape the house was after all the years he saw. As Galwyn reached the front door, he knocked three times and awaited for someone to answer, which wasn't too long as footsteps were heard approaching. As the door opened, a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties appeared in the door frame, he had lightly tanned Caucasian skin, well-built body, short light-brown hair,, neatly trimmed brown mustache, and the same blue colored eyes. He wore a white short-sleeved shirt, brown leather pants, and black boots. Upon seeing Galwyn at the door, the man smiled as if he knew who he was.

"Father, good to see you!" The man, who apparently was the older man's son, with the glasses said as the two hugged.

"Hello, Warren, my boy." Galwyn replied, returning the hug. "How've you been these past weeks?"

"Couldn't complain, would you like to come inside?"

"I surely would!"

As the two walked through the hallways, they found themselves in the den where a woman sat at the dinner table writing a letter; she was a four-foot tall Caucasian with a lithe figure, long shoulder-length red hair, soft facial features, and dark-brown eyes. She wore an elegant white dress with short sleeves that were accented with black highlights and white slip-on shoes. Taking a break from her writing, the woman looked up to see Warren standing next to a smiling Galwyn.

"Hello, Mariam." Galwyn smiled.

"Hello, Galwyn, tis good to see you're in good health." Mariam replied as she hugged Galwyn.

"Grandpapa!" Two excited voices exclaimed.

"Hello, boys!" The older man laughed as he found himself hugging two young boys.

Both bots in question had fair Caucasian skin, short raven-black, and icy-blue eyes, while one of them was nine years old and the other was only four. The older boy wore a black short-sleeved shirt, grey pants, and brown shoes, while the younger wore a green tunic, white pants, and white shoes. By the looks of things, these two were Galwyn's grandsons, though he found it odd that neither of the two shared any traits from their parents, but could've meant they inherited their appearances from him; still, something felt amiss . . . Galwyn shrugged it off and decided not to delve into the matter; just as long as he was able to spend quality time with them, despite the eldest getting into trouble at times.

"We've missed you Grandpapa!" The older boy said, nearly tackling his grandfather to the ground.

"Careful, Terrance, you don't want to injure your grandfather's other leg." Mariam scolded.

"Sorry, mamma . . ."

"Oh, leave the lad be, Mariam, no harm was done." Galwyn said, tussling Terrence's hair. "Besides, I've been through far worse to know what can truly hurt me."

"Will you tell us the story again, Grandpapa?" The younger boy gleamed, pulling on his grandfather's sleeve. "About the warrior princes and princess? Can you? Can you?!

"Now, Matthew, you and Terrence have already heard dozens of times now." Warren groaned, rubbing his temples. "Besides he only barely got here."

"It is no trouble with me, I never get tired of telling the story time and time again." Galwyn insisted, then smiled smugly at the couple. "Besides, I know _you_ two never get tired of hear it."

Both Warren and Mariam looked to each other, then to Galwyn, then sighed with smiles; the older man was certainly right: none of them ever got tired of hearing the stories he would tell to them. Everyone gathered around the table and took a seat, Galwyn sitting at the head of the table so that all eyes were on him at all times when he spoke. Galwyn took a few sips of water before gargling and swallowing, cleared his throat to make sure everything his said was nice and clear, then looked to his family with serious eyes.

"As you all know, some stories start with a single person . . ." Galwyn stated as he stood up and walked towards the fireplace. "This tale, however, starts with three . . . and a fourth who would join them on their quest of destiny . . ."

* * *

**Forrest of Fate; Years Ago**

It was a beautiful day in an open field of an meadow; the sun was shining brightly in the sky, the leaves and grass were as green as Spring would be, and the wind was at a nice breeze. Animals such as birds, deer, squirrels, chipmunks, and rabbits scurried around the trees and meadow as a lone figure hid behind a bush. As the figure moved away from the bush, it was revealed to be in fact a young boy that appeared to be the age of seven, who was about two and a half feet tall with fair-colored Caucasian skin, short raven-black hair, and dark-navy blue eyes. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt, brown vest, grey pants, and black boots. Scanning his surroundings, as if preparing himself for an attack, to see if there was anyone else around to sneak up on him. Deciding he was alone, the boy leaned against a tree and basked in the sunlight, when suddenly the sound of a twig breaking caught his attention. Getting into a defensive stance, the boy looked around to see if he could spot whatever made the sound; a three-foot branch in hand for when he was attacked. It was then that the bushes to his right began to rustle, gaining the boy's attention as he slowly neared it, then poked at the leaves. It was now or never, whomever (or _whatever_) was stalking him time had come, he was ready for anything, especially . . . a field mouse? He was on his toes, ready for any type of danger, and he was worked up by a little field mouse? The boy chuckle in spite of himself, sighing as he watched the field mouse scurry away . . . then caught sight of a shadowy figure no farther than three feet away from him. The boy was barely able to bring the branch up in time to block an attack from his assailant, who went on a berserk fury onslaught with the weapon in their hand. Though the boy put up a good fight, blocking, dodging, and a majority of counter-attacks, his branch flew out of his hands and he found himself on his back on the ground.

"Looks like I win again."

Looking beyond the branch that was pointed at him, which was used as a weapon like the one he had, the boy looked into the cold, sky-blues eyes of a young girl that looked about his own age, give or take a year older. She appeared to be slightly taller than the boy with flawlessly olive skin, and long flowing ebony-black hair as she smiled smugly at her defeated opponent. She wore a simple white dress with a blue-collar and short sleeves with gold accents, short white skirt, and open-toe sandals. The girl triumphantly took the branch away from the boy, who sat up and hung his head in complete grief; did she have to play so rough?

"That was not fair . . ." The boy frowned.

"War is _never_ fair, that is why it is imperative for you to be prepared!" The girl sternly replied, but became sympathetic when she saw the boy sulk his head. "Perhaps I was a little hard, need a hand?"

The girl held out a hand to help the boy up and though he was hesitant to accept it, upset that she attacked him out of nowhere, he looked up to see that she truly regretted hurting him. After a few seconds of looking between the girl and her hand, the boy sighed, then accepted the hand as he was pulled up to his feet. The girl sighed in relief, she didn't like it when her friends were upset with her, not that she meant to hurt them, it just happens out of her control.

"I apologize if I have harmed you in any way, Galwyn, I get carried away sometimes."

"_Sometimes_? You nearly poked me in the eye with a branch while we were playing yesterday, Diana."

"Well, you did _sneak_ up on her, Clark."

The boy and girl turned to see two more boys, both appeared to be the age of nine and ten respectively and though they as well had black hair (the younger having night-black, while the older had raven black) and blue eyes (the younger having icy-blue as the older had cerulean-blue), they both differed in appearance. The younger boy wore a black shirt, grey pants, and black boots, while the older boy wore a red long-sleeved shirt, blue vest, white pants, and white boots.

"Yeah, well, not all of us can be as sneaky as you are, _Bruce_." Clark, the older boy, retorted halfheartedly.

"Please, let us not fight like this." Galwyn intervened, gaining the attention of the older three. "After all, it is only a harmless children's game, isn't it?"

The three could help but smile at the younger youth, despite being younger and shorter out of the four of them, Galwyn seemed to be wise beyond his apparent age; that didn't mean he didn't know how to act like other boys his age. He never, in the last year and a half that they've known each other, whined, complained, or cried when they were playing sword fight and he'd be the first one to always lose. He'd always be shown smiling, even when he got hurt or made fun of, though none of the three would actually go _that_ far; they weren't the ones to bully others after all. Bruce, however, was a very quiet boy, but he was friendly, despite the dark way he talks and the fact he was able to sneak up undetected for a long time. Clark, who was the tallest (next to Diana), was also shy like Bruce, but he was a kind boy to talk to and showed that he like making friends; no matter who they were or where they came from. Lastly, Diana was the most brutal of the four, evident on how she likes to play, but beneath her steel hard outside, there was a kindly warm inside. The four, as mentioned, were only friends for a year and a half, yet they became the best of friends instantly when they realized they had one thing in common: they were all incredibly lonely. It was true, because Bruce, Diana, and Clark were from Royal Families, Though Clark lived on a farm outside of the Kingdom of Metropolis, that it was hard for them to make friends and Diana lived on an island were there were few children and they were only girls, yet Galwyn wasn't even a noble. This confused the three when they asked what family he was from, but all he could say was that he wasn't suppose to tell anyone, because his parents told him it was too "dangerous" to say who he was and bad people would be after him.

As if on instinct, Galwyn looked to his left and saw that a lone figure was observing them from the meadow; noticing their friend looking towards the meadow, the three followed his gaze to see what he was looking at. The figure was only a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties with a muscular built body that had light Caucasian skin, chiseled facial features, short hazelnut hair, and bright crystal-blue eyes. He wore a blue long-sleeved shirt that had a symbol of an Egyptian ankh on the chest, blue pants, yellow belt with a blue crystal embedded into its center, a yellow cape that was hung over his shoulders by a golden chain, and yellow gloves and boots. This person was known as Sir Kent Nelson, a wayward sorcerer who was an old friend of each of their families and was even the very person who introduced the four children to one another. He and his wife, Inza (who was also a sorceress), were kind enough to allow the four to play in the dimension that existed within their own home; the Tower of Fate. Both Sir Nelson and Lady Inza were actually members of a secret order that served the Lords of Order and Chaos, more specifically, The Lord of Magic; Nabu. Though Bruce, Diana, and Galwyn seemed cautious around him at first, Clark had taken an immediate liking to the sorcerer since they both shared the same name. The key difference was that Kent was Sir Nelson's first name, while it was Clark's sure name from his adoptive parents. Normally, Sir Nelson would only appear when it was time for the children to go home, but it seemed rather odd for him to appear this early, which had the four children concern.

"Sir Nelson, why are you here so early?" Diana asked worryingly. "Is there something wrong?"

"I have something to discuss with you." Sir Nelson replied, then gestured the four to follow him. "Come along, children."

Though they were hesitant at first, sharing a glance at one another, the four followed after the yellow and blue clad sorcerer to what appeared to be his study, which was filled to the brim with many mystical items, grimoire books, and other magical material. In the middle of the floor was a large chalk-white circle with a blue ten pointed star drawn within the center. Standing in the room was a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties with a slender figure, light-Caucasian skin, long raven-black hair that was tied back into a ponytail, and jade-green eyes. She wore a light-brown long-sleeved shirt with a red circle near the neck area, dark-teal colored pants, ankh-like earrings, and black slip-on shoes. This person was Kent's wife, Lady Inza Nelson, who was, as mentioned before, a sorceress of the Order of Nabu and the kindness woman the four had ever met. Though usually she'd be very happy to see he four, her lips were in a very sad frown, which had the children even more concerned as Sir Nelson gestured them to sit around the circle.

"I suppose you are all wondering why I called you here." The sorcerer deduced, facing away from the children.

"Yes, and we would like an explanation, please ." Bruce urged impatiently.

"Bruce . . ." Diana scolded.

"No, he is right, you all deserve an explanation." Sir Nelson sighed heavily, the looked to the children in sadness. "What if I were to tell you that today will be the last day you will see each other for a _very_ long time?"

". . . What are you saying?" Clark questioned, not liking the way the sorcerer spoke.

"I have conversed with Nabu lately, and he has informed me that for the safety of your kingdoms, as well as your well beings, you will all need to be separated . . . and your memories taken away."

"What! But why?!" Galwyn cried out in shock.

"Because there is a dark force growing as we speak." Sir Nelson replied seriously. "Though I do not know where it is or what form it takes, I do know that it will come for your kingdoms . . . starting with the four of you."

"So . . . we'll just fight back then!" Diana proposed, standing up on her feet. "If we band together, we will be able to defeat this darkness; Amazons never run from battle."

"I agree with Diana, if we can-" Clark began to say.

"You will do no such thing!" Lady Inza suddenly shouted, startling the four as they stared at her in surprise. "You're all too young and highly inexperienced!"

". . . Then, maybe we can hide here in case here?" Galwyn suggested shyly.

"I am afraid that won't work." Sir Nelson shook his head. "If you stay here, then the darkness will find you and Inza and I are not powerful enough to combat it."

"But . . . you can't . . ." Bruce mumbled, not being able to think of anything.

"Please believe me when I say that I wish there was an alternative, but sadly, there isn't. I do not wish to separate the four of you,nor do I wish to take away your memories, but it is the only way."

"So then that's it . . . . we'll never see each other again . . ?" Galwyn asked, his lips quivering.

"Far from it, you will meet each other again." Inza assured the depressed boy in a soothing voice, caressing his cheek as she did. "But for now, you must be apart from each other, until you are of age."

"What does that mean?" Diana questioned incredulously.

"You will find out in due time, but now . . . I must do as ordered . . ." Sir Nelson sighed, a stray tear falling from his eye.

Though the four, Diana most of all, wanted to protest and argue about the situation at hand, they knew that the sorcerer and his wife would never do anything this drastic, unless they had to. Clark glanced to Bruce, then to Diana, both were losing their respective battles to hold back their tears of sadness; the feeling taking over the farm boy as he took and clenched their hands within his own. Their attention drifted towards Galwyn, who was being all too quiet, that is until they heard the sound of sputtering as the boy looked up.

"I-I-I . . . I don't want to lose my memory . . ." Galwyn sniffled, showing his nearly sobbing face for all to see. "I do not want to forget I had friends . . ."

"Now, now, young Galwyn, this goodbye will not be forever." Sir Nelson reassured in a calm and gentle voice. "You will meet each other again."

"But we won't recognize each other . . ."

"Not at first, it will seem that you are strangers at first, but you will remember, I promise you this . . ."

Galwyn looked between the sorcerer and his wife, then to his three friends, all of which looked as sad and upset as he was, he sighed and took the hands of Bruce and Diana's within his own.

"Okay . . . I'm ready . . ." Galwyn wheezed.

"Very well, but before we begin, I must admit one last detail . . ." Sir Nelson stated as he reached into a small chest and took out what appeared to be a helmet. It appeared to be made of pure gold with a flat point on the top and two eyes holes. This was known as the Helmet of Fate, an artifact that was created by Nabu to allow only the chosen to wield its magical properties. "Galwyn, out of the four, I must take away more memories from you . . ."

". . . How come . . ?"

"The four of you are special in your own way, but you Galwyn, you are the most special. You may not believe what I say, but deep within, you have a strength that will one day bring peace across the land and Kingdoms . . . Shall we begin?"

The children said nothing as they hesitantly nodded, Inza standing on one end of the circle and Kent one the other side; the time was now or never. With a heavy sigh, Kent looked into the eyes of his helmet, then placed it onto his head. As he did so, the eyes of the helmet began to flash different colors, until they became a dark crimson-red. It was at that moment that he began to speak, only this time, his voice sounded deeper and more thunderous than the soft voice of Kent Nelson:

"_By the Divine power of Nabu, Lord of Order and Magic, I call to thee! Lock away! Lock away what shall be remembered! Lock away, until their Coming of Age!_"

As Kent chanted the incantation, he and Inza began to levitate off the ground and a large ankh that was made of golden energy appeared right behind him, which began to illuminate the room. The circle, star, even everyone's eyes began to glow the same golden color as a large gust of wind enveloped the whole room. As the glowing became brighter and brighter, Kent spoke another incantation:

"_I will now count to three, when I do, you will all fall into a deep sleep. When you awaken you will all be home in your respective kingdoms, and when you do, you will remember repeat after me: after I count to three, you will fall into a deep sleep, when you awaken, what shall you remember?_"

"Nothing." The four children, who were all in a trace, replied.

"_1 . . . 2 . . . 3._"

Everything else became a blur as everything around the children went dark.

* * *

**Well that was it and again I hope that this was enough to satisfy, if it wasn't, awe well, back to the drawing board! LOL! Anyway, from what I've heard about the Batman/Superman movie, I'm actually curious on how Ben Affleck will do as Bruce Wayne. He was very good as Matt Murdock/DareDevil (the blind Martial Arts Marvel superhero), but I guess we'll have to wait and see if he makes the roll works. What I'm not impressed about is that they want Jessie Eisenberg as LEX LUTHOR! The guy is _way_ too young, unless they're going to use CGI to make him look older, like reversing Patrick Stewart when he played Charles Xavier in X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Well, that's all I have to say, if you like, it'd be much appreciated. **


	2. Galwyn Ginnis

**Hey, what up? I'm back and since I've been achin to do more JL related things since the first chap, I've decided to do a little more, long story short: I am here to stay and make stories as I please. I like to make a big shoutout to Rocksteady; Arkham Knight looks as sweet as it looks and I am itchin to pick it up at a local GameStop (there are like four or five from where I live and they're all a good distance away, can you believe it?). So anyway, DC owns a lot, I only own OCs, I apologize if some of the characters are OOC, but I'm sure there'll be some authors that'll be kind enough to give me some pointers. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter One**: Galwyn Ginnis

* * *

Gotham.

A very prosperous and agricultural kingdom as well as the second largest of the Three Kingdoms; watched over for centuries by the keen eyes of the noble Wayne Royal Family. Years ago, before the Three Kingdoms came into existence, the Wayne Family were already a hundred years old and were natural born leaders that served Koumori; the King of the Bats. They were honorable, chivalrous, noble, selfless, and above all else, loyal to their friends and allies. They were against any form of injustice: murder, robbery, larceny, and killing in the up most passion. Though the people respect and revered the Waynes, their virtues led to a clash against the Court of Owls, a wicked cabal that served under the evil Al-Owai; the King of Owls and the twin brother of Koumori as well as his sworn nemesis. The cult itself were of many noble families and assassins that dated before the construction of Gotham and had long since led a revolt to seize the kingdom in the name of Al-Owai. Their attempts were fruitless as the Waynes not only became Kings and Queens and ruled over Gotham, but they also became the sworn guardians of their people. With many allies by their side, some odd and unlikely, the Waynes led a crusade against the evil that plagued the land around and anything that grew within the shadows. Be it against soldier, sorcerer, assassin, or hostile kingdoms, Gotham always prevailed to any challenge that stood in their path.

Each Wayne were known by his or her own deed: Solomon Wayne, who led a revolt against the immortal tyrant, Vandal Savage for slavery; Alan Wayne, who led villagers against the corrupt Cobblepot Family; Thomas Wayne, who partook in the war against the evil King of Apokolips, Uxas Khan, or the sorcerer "Darkseid" as he was known more as. Each Wayne (and their allies), however, was known to have wielded the fabled Sword of the Night; Swift Fang. The blade's metal itself forged with the mysterious element; Nth by the deity Spectre, the Soldier of Strength and Vengeance, and enchanted by Koumori for only the worthy to wield it's handle. Opposed to the dark code and and satanic rituals of Court of Owls, the Waynes ruled with seven virtues: strength, loyalty, equality, unity, truth, trust and above all else that was represented in the spirit of Koumori; justice. With these virtues and their allies by their side, the Waynes continued on with their legacy and a time peace and prosperity ruled over the land.

Unfortunately . . . these times were not to last . . .

On the day that the recent heir to the throne, Prince Bruce, son of King Thomas and his Queen, Martha, was to be prepared for coronation, tragedy had struck Gotham at their heart. A group of corrupt knights, who were servants of Al-Owai, attacked and forced the Royal Family to flee as the insurgents were fought off. They did not get far as members of the Court of Owls had managed to infiltrate the castle and were waiting for them at every turn. King Thomas fought with all his heart, but sadly, he and Queen Martha would parish by the hands of lone assassin who was shrouded in mystery. The young Prince would have shared a similar fate, had it not been for the intervention of the Sacred Order of St. Dumas, a secret order of followers of Azrael; the Angel of Life and Death. Swift as lightning and with the King and Queen dead, the Court of Owls laid seige to Gotham, forcing many of the Royal Families as well as their allies to flee or risk being hunted down and killed.

Years have passed by and Gotham was long since left to rot in isolation; it's people being forced to live in constant fear under the martial law of the Court of Owls. Though enslaved, the people of Gotham never lost hope and knew without a doubt that the Wayne Family never abandoned them, not for anyone or any-_thing_. They kept hope that Prince Bruce would return one day and free them from the tyranny of the Court of Owls, even if it took decades. Prince Bruce, having lost everything in his life: his kingdom, his people . . . and his family, was taken in by the monks of St. Dumas and trained in combat to combat the Court of Owls. The young prince never forgot the day everything that was precious to him was taken away . . . and he never forgave the ones who took it from him . . .

Across the vast lake of Pinkney, was the sibling kingdom of Blüdhaven, which was discovered by the the architecht and loyal friend and ally of the Wayne Family; Cyrus Pinkney. It was also here that the great King of Gotham, Solomon Wayne, did battle against Vandal Savage and rose victorious. As a reward for his valor and bravery, Solomon Village was founded and named in the Wayne's honor, with a statue in the very center. Blüdhaven even shared similar agriculture and customs as Gotham as well as worships the Dark Seven. Ruled by many who swore their lives to protect it's people, the most recent ruler was a man known by Hamilton Hill, a most honorable king. Though it long since closed it borders from it's sibling kingdom soon after it was taken over by the Court of Owls. It was also in this village that lived one of the most loyal of allies the Wayne would ever had in this life or the next; they were known by one name . . . the McGinnises . . .

* * *

**Solomon Village, **Unknown Hut**, Kingdom Blüdhaven; 45 Years Ago . . .**

_Opening the door to a small room, which appeared to belong to a small child as wooden toys were spread all over the floor, was a man that appeared to be in his early thirties. He stood about five foot tall and had a massive muscular body, tanned skin, short raven-black hair, clean shaven upper and lower square jaw, and wood-brown eyes. He wore a white short-sleeved shirt, black pants, and brown leather boots. Following the man into the room was Sir Kent Nelson and his wife, Lady Inza; the latter of which was still wearing the Helmet of Fate. In the arms of the sorcerer was the unconscious form of young Galwyn as the boy was placed on the bed._

_"I hope, in due time, you will forgive me, young Galwyn." Sir Nelson whispered, his voice still unusually deep._

_"Was all of this truly necessary, Kent?" The muscular man questioned, facing away from the sorcerer and his wife. "He is but a wee lad."_

_"Yes, Theodore, you know as well as Inza and I do that it is not safe for him outside Blüdhaven and he needs all the training you can provide for him."_

_"Aye, but why so young?"_

_"**They** still search for him." Lady Inza replied, kissing the young boy on the forehead, then tucked him in the covers. "And would you rather he be trained by the Order?"_

_". . . Guess not, though I normally don't admit thing easily, it's gonna be a challenge to train him and Dinah's wee lass from time to time." Theodore chuckled at thought of how the woman he spoke of would swoon over Galwyn. "But that will be just fine; I love challenges."_

_"I am certain you do, old friend." Sir Nelson smiled beneath his helmet, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Remember, you are the only one the Society trusts to take care of Galwyn."_

_"And we hope that you will raise him the way any father would." Lady Inza added, standing next to her husband._

_"I will, he will grow up as normal as the lad next to him." Theodore relied, tussling the sleeping boy's hair, causing him to turn in his sleep. "But his training will be more advanced than Bruce and Dinah's; it will be as much mentally as physically."_

_"Just as long as you do not place too much stress on his shoulders." Sir Nelson mused calmly. "Well, it is time that Inza and I returned home, we wish you luck."_

_"Take care, Theodore." Lady Inza stated as she and her husband vanished into a golden light, which was in the shape of an ankh._

_"Theodore . . ?"_

_The tall man looked towards the bed and saw that Galwyn's eyes were open, but not enough for him to see Sir Nelson or Lady Inza transport away. If anything, it looked as though the boy had awoken as if he knew he weren't alone In the room. Ah, the innocence of youth at its finest; to think, Theodore was was like the boy when he was that age._

_"Sorry, Galwyn, you dozed off in the den and I couldn't wake you." Theodore said, making sure the boy was comfortable in his bed._

_"I had this odd dream, there were three other children and two . . . Sorcerers . . ." Galwyn said, until a big yawn escaped his lips._

_"Now, now, we'll talk about that in the morning, it's time you hit the hey for now."_

_"But I am not . . . sleepy . . . ."_

_The young boys eyes betrayed him as his eyelids fell and the rest of his body got comfortable enough to be off to dreamland until the next morning. Theodore couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's attempt to stay awake, even if he was slightly more intelligent than most of his age, Galwyn was only a little boy and all little boys need their goodnight's rest. The man's small smile turned into a sad frown as his eyes landed upon a small locket upon a nightstand that was next to the bed, something that didn't hold good memories. Engreved onto the locket was the name "Ginnis", but apparently it wasn't the full name as there were three words that appeared to be withered out, despite looking brand new. He picked it up, opened it, and looked at two small illustrations of a handsome man and a beautiful woman, both of whom which were likely to be the mother and father of Galwyn. A stray tear trickled down the man's strong jaw as memories from not too long ago began to flash through his mind, each one involved this young couple, up until they left their son at his doorstep. THeodore shook the thoughts away, now wasn't the time to feel sad, the couple wouldn't have accepted seeing him as such. A loud yawn escaped his throat when he realized that he needed rest as well, it was going to be a hell of a challenge training three children as mentioned earlier, but smiled since life would be rather dull if challenges never existed. After making sure the room was secure and Galwyn was safely tucked away, it was time for Theodore to lay down for rest as well._

_"I pry that the Seven will have mercy on you soul." Theodore said as he turned and walked out the door; they both had a lot to do in the morning. "Terrence, Alicia, give us strength."_

* * *

**Solomon Village, Market Street, Kingdom Blüdhaven; 30 Years Ago . . .**

It was a beautiful sunny day in the Kingdom of Blüdhaven as the April sun shined brightly upon Solomon Village, where the many village folk walked about their own buisness or chatting the day away. In a single hut, however, stood the now middle-aged form of Theodore Grant; his once black hair now greying and his age was apparent in his dull eyes. The rest of him, however, remained as muscular and strong as he was in his youth. In truth, Thodore was the local Battle Master, a title that tasked him with training knights and guards to protect royalty and nobles in both hand-to-hand combat as well as weaponry. For 15 years Galwyn had lived with Theodore and had trained nonstop until he was absolutely sure that he could hold his own in a brawl; the downside was that he had yet to perfect fighting more than one opponent at a time. Sure, he could take up to three guys, but if numbers climbed, he was in serious trouble, _very_ serious. Years ago, when Galwyn was a little boy, his parent, Terrence and Felicia, left him with Theodore as he was their most trusted friend and ally. They never said where they were going, or why for that matter, all they said was that they would return one day and advised their son never to use (or reveal) his true name. Their bodies were found weeks later, dangling from a single noose by the neck of an old, withered oak tree; devoid of and . . . and every life. Though it appeared that they had committed suicide by hanging, their lifeless bodies were checked and had many bruises and cuts all over; the most incriminating feature were the gashes on their stomachs. This would mean they committed a form of ritualistic suicide known as "Seppuku"; where one kills themselves for their honor.

That was a lot like Terrence and Felicia, dying for their honor rather than living in shame or to be tortured, then be killed. No one knew or ever found out who was responsible for what happened to them or what the person had looked like, but evidence pointed to a tag that looked like a capitalized "A" on their backs. Though many tried to keep the news from Galwyn, the young boy had soon found out and it shattered his heart into countless pieces. Funny thing about the young lad was that he had his mother's eyes, yet he had his father's spirit, which demanded he act whenever he saw trouble. He would get into constant fights with bullies and other troublemakers, even when he was being punished he still held no regret of his actions. Currently both Theodore and the now older Galwyn were in the presence of the local medacine woman, Leslie Thompkins. Lady Leslie was around Theodore's age, slightly younger perhaps, with withered cream-colored skin, long white hair in a ponytail, and dull green eyes; she wore a beautiful white dress, Though women were treated as second class citizens, Blüdhaven was one of very few kingdoms to allow women to become knights if they wanted to. Anyway, Galwyn, though his hair being slightly longer, had not changed after all these years, though he was now a handsome young man with a nicely toned body and slightly longer hair. The young man amply sat still as medical herbs rubbed against his bruised skin and though it stung, Galwyn kept a straight face as he looked down to the floor.

"You are taking this rather well than I expected." Leslie observed, remembering how much the young man would complain about the medicine.

"He is an adult now Leslie, I am certain he knows how to take it like a man." Theodore mused sarcastically, then glanced over his shoulder. "And what, pray tell, were you thinking, Galwyn?"

"I didn't start that fight . . ." Galwyn mumbled, his eyes still to the floor.

The reason for both their presence of the medicine woman was because Galwyn was in a fight not to long ago. Three drunk men were harassing a group of handmaidens that were on errands for their nobles, when they refused the men, they tried to force themselves upon them. Galwyn just so happened to be walking by and had tried to put a stop to them, only to be gained upon and overpowered by by their constant attacks. If it weren't for Theodore arriving in time, Galwyn was certain that he would have lost an arm or a leg. Despite his age, Theodore was still the pinochle of strength and had stamina that rivaled rivaled the Seven themselves; not to mention he was good with a sword and a cane. One might question him as he carried a wooden cane everywhere he went, despite walking perfectly well and having the eyesight of an eagle. If one were to really aye him off, they'd find the cane is much more than what it appears to be.

"Aye, but you almost got yerself killed!" Theodore argued, now fully looking at the young man.

"I couldn't have turned away as if it were nothing!" Galwyn shot back.

"The Hell, ye did not! It is one thing to to defend yerself, but what you did was reckless!"

"What would you have me do then, walk away while those pigs harass more women?"

"At least it's better than bein a bull-headed fool!"

"The same could be said about a mad wildcat like yourself!"

"That's enough!" Lady Leslie shouted, which made the two stare at her.

Despite her fragile and aged appearance, Leslie was never the one to be fearful to speak her mind whenever things went wrong or out of hand. She was also one of the wisest people Galwyn had come to known, she even treated him as if he were her own child; a feeling he felt from all the years. She was also an unofficial referee whenever these two were at each other's throats like a couple of rabid dogs. After a few minuets of awkward silence, both males let out heavy sighs, then looked to one another.

"Theodore . . ." Galwyn began slowly.

"Lad . . ." Theodore said in a low voice.

"I'm sorry!" Both said simultaniously.

"I just want to feel useless whenever someone needs help . . ." Galwyn murmured, his eyes back to the ground.

"And ah jus don' wantte see ye hurt is all." Theodore replied, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You are still jus a wee lad, afterall."

"And you are still a wildcat."

Though evrything was tense at first, the three broke out in laughter; though sometimes they would argue, even if it were the smallest thing, Galwyn and Theodore still cared much for each other. Theodore was always strict when it came to combat training, to the point of questioning if the man was even human, but he still had a caring heart. When Galwyn once asked Theodore if he wanted to start a family, with wife and children, the man only replied that he had only ever loved one woman, but their love was never meant to be. Sensing that the matter was very personal, Galwyn promised never to bring up the subject ever again. After checking that there were no major injuries on Galwyn, and that he was all bandaged up, it was time for the two to be heading home. Walking through the marketplace, people from all around greeted and waved to Theodore, who would wave back and smile. People loved Theodore as he was one of many to risk his life for the protection of Bludhaven, something that has been the main priority since the Court of Owls laid siege to Gotham.

"Hey, Galwyn!"

Both males turned around to see a young woman who appeared to be the same age as Galwyn, give or take two years younger, rushed up to catch up with them. She had nice womanly figure with fair creamy-Caucasian skin, long dirt blonde-colored hair that reached her waist and was tied into a ponytail, bright crystal-green eyes. She wore a white long-sleeved shirt, brown leather vest, white pants, and black slip-on shoes. Slung over her right shoulder was a longbow and a quiver full of oak arrows. As she approached, both males could't help but let out loud exhales; the look on her face meant she wasn't in the best mood at the moment.

"Oh, morning, Amy." Galwyn greeted sheepishly.

"Don't you ''morning Amy" me, I've heard what's happened earlier!" Amy said accusingly. "Morning, Theodore, can we have a minuet, we've something important to discuss."

"It appears so." Theodore smirked, then proceeded to walk away. "I'll see ye back at the hut, lad."

Soon as the aged man disappeared into the crowd villagers, the woman, Amy, turned attention to Galwyn. "I heard what had happened earlier."

"Have you now?" Galwyn quipped sarcastically.

Ever since they were children, Galwyn could never remember a day when Amy Winston wasn't always quick to scold someone like a mother to her children. It was no later when Galwyn heard the fate of his dear mother and father that he met Amy. At first, in his grief, he wanted nothing to do with her or any other children from the village. But after she persistently asked what was wrong, he broke and revealed what happened. To his surprise, she revealed her mother passed away the day she was born. She was also the daughter of the huntsman, Alistaire O'Hara who was also very overprotective over Amy around strangers, but it was a relief to learn he and Theodore were old friends. Theodore even had Galwyn learn archery from Alistaire, but his skills were of no equal to Amy's sharp eye. Whenever Galwyn got into fights was when she'd really start to chew him out as if he were a loaf of bread, despite she'd occasionally get into just as much trouble whenever children spoke poorly of her mother.

"This isn't a joke, Galwyn! Those men were former guards, they had years worth of combat!" Amy hissed angrily. "You are very fortunate not to receive a tip of a blade through your flesh!"

"Then I would have gladly accept it!" Galwyn shot back. "I have already been through this with Theodore, I do not need your scolding to tell me what I did was right or wrong!"

"Pretty big talk from a boy who thinks he's a man!"

"Least I don't pretend to be a princess behind everyone's back!"

"Swine-head numbskull!"

"Damned shemale!"

Both glared intensely at each other for a good couple of minuets, then like what happened with Theodore, both Galwyn and Amy broke out in laughter. Like Theodore, Galwyn and Amy would get at each other's throats, but it didn't mean they wanted anything ill-fated to happen to one another. It only meant that they knew they were willing to help others, even if it meant going through immense pain to do so. Though she looked like any other delicate female, Amy was well versed in hand-to-hand combat, though not as skilled as Galwyn, she was formidable in her own way. Both began to make their way to Theordore' hut and reflect on how their lives were so far.

As they walked, Amy decided to strike up a conversation. "So, Galwyn, think Theodore will let you join in on one of his deliveries soon?"

Truth be told, Galwyn always dreamt of having an adventure ever since he was a young lad. After hearing the stories he heard from his father, mother and Theodore, he would always dream the same dream: traveling to lands far away, meeting others of various ethnicity, fending off any man or monster that he crossed paths with.

"Doubt it, the only action he gets is training soldier and guard trainees as well as throwing my arse all over the place." Galwyn replied. "If there is any opportunity for me, well . . . I just don't see it."

* * *

As he arrived at his hut, Theodore saw there were about four or five robed figures sitting on one of his wagons, the one he used for deliveries; a side job from teaching combat. Strange, he didn't remember any delivery request earlier, so what were these people doing on his property? As he got closer, he had a slight feeling these people meant business, but not the professional kind; something much more . . . dark. Nonetheless, Theodore was never the one to back away from danger, besides, this was where he lived and did business when not teaching combat.

Theodore walked up to the group, keeping on guard as he did. "Excuse me, gentlemen, may I help ye?"

Taking notice of the one who addressed them, one of the men stood and walked up to Theodore. "Good evening, are you Theodore Grant?"

"Aye, that he me. Is there anything I can help ye with?"

"Yes actually, you see, we were sent here to look for a certain individual."

This made the battle master's eyes narrow a bit. His business was either training people, or delivering for them, but never searching or locating anyone. Who were these men? Why were they coming to his hut in the first place?

"My apologies, gentlemen, but I'm afraid I canno' help ye."

The man didn't seem to take a hunt. "Oh, but you can, you can tell us where he is. You see, we were told that a young man of the same description we were given resides in this village."

"I find that _very_ unlikely." Theodore remarked darkly.

"Then I will make it simple, we know he resides here, we know who he is, and you are going to tell us where he is if you value your life."

That did it. He comes to his hut, he got in his face, now he was he was giving out threats if he didn't say anything about Galwyn. If there was one of the many things that the Battle Master didn't take well too, above all else; it was threats.

"I don' think I like yer attitude." Theodore growled viciously low. "Now I'm gonna give ye an' yer friends two simple choices: get off of m'ah property, or be tied into human knots. I suggest you make you decision . . . Right now."

The leader of he group didn't seem all that afraid, which was his own mistake. "I was trying to be nice and diplomatic, but I see you do not respect life as you should. Kill him!"

The first of the men took out an Arabian scimitar and charged with intent to kill, but the seasoned Battle Master wasn't someone to take lightly. Almost in a flash, Theodore brought up his cane and effortlessly blocked/deflected every slash that came his way. Deciding it was enough, Theodore sidestepped a slash, then brought the cane down upon the back of the man's head. The aged Battle Master took a defensive stance as two more of the assailants drawing daggers and a long sword, then rushed at him. Theodore merely smirked as he grabbed the hilt of his cane, then pulled out . . . a sword! The blade itself was a two feet long single-edge that Theodore used to blocked one of the assailant's strikes. Using the "scabbard" of the cane as a bludgeon, Theodore struck the assailant at the side of the leg, stepped behind, then slit the bandit's throat. The assassin with the daggers try to gain payback for his fallen comrade by taking a few stabs at the aged swordsman, only to find his attacks parried and his slashes blocked with ease. The assailant charged once more, only to be met by a punch to the face, then a sharp pain through his sternum; seeing the Battle Master's blade penetrate through his flesh.

With two of the assailants dead, Theodore noticed the scimitar wielding assassin about to get back on his feet. With a simple slash to the man's back, the assassin fell limp back to the ground. Theodore turned to the two remaining assassins with a smirk. "Is that all ye got?! I though assassins were more skilled than this."

"Enough of this!" The lead assassin growled as he and the last of his comrades.

The next of the assassins was apparently more skilled than his comrades as he not only showed exceptional prowess in acrobatics, performing ten handsprins in a row, but also to be quite swift. Before Theodore could do anything, the assassin twirled before him, then proceeded to kick out of his hand. The aged Battle Master was baffled, but shooke it off and tried to go on the offensive with the "bludgeon" of his cane. This actions was futile as the assassin swayed and dodged every Attack that went his way. The assassin pressed on the offensive, but kicking Theodore's remaining weapon out of hand, the closed in with a thrust-kick to the chest. The aged warrior grunted as he stumbled back a bit, then was sent buckling to the ground after the assailant performed a sweep-kick. It was when Theodore was struck across the face with with a spinning-wheel kick that he realized these people meant business . . . but he would be damned if he allowed these bastards to lay a hand on Galwyn! The assassin through a punch at his downed opponent . . . when his fist was caught, even though the older man was facing away. The assassin through another punch with his other fist, but was met by the same result as the first. The assassin struggled a bit to free himself, but found the aged male before him was precisely stronger than he appeared.

The aged Battle Master slowly turned back to his opponent with a gleam in his eyes, spitting out blood from his mouth, then cracked his neck. "Now it's my turn . . ."

In one swift move, Theodore smashed the assassin's fist into his face, pulled him in and struck a hammer-fist into the back of one of the knees, then brought his elbow to the bridge of hiss opponent's nose. Dazed, the assassin regained his bearings, only to see the older warrior standing mere inches away. Before he could attempt any more acrobatics, Theodore slammed both his hands to the side of the assassin's head; placing the younger fighter into a much worse daze than he was before. Not allowing the assassin to recover, Theodore pulled him into a headlock, then turned his head very swiftly; snapping his neck in the process. This left him with the leader, both staring each other down. The remaining assassin reached behind his back and pulled out two unique looking shorts: a longsword and a short sword, both were single handed and double-edged, but had black blades and the arm guards were of arches that pointed away from the blades. The assassin made the first move and charged at Theodore, who managed to roll out of the way and reclaim both parts of his cane sword. Both Battle Master and assassin traded slashes, cuts and stabs, but neither had gained the upper hand. The assassin started to lose what little patience he had; he and his group were to be the best in their line of work. And not only this old bastard was still alive, but he had managed to retaliate their attack a well as slay his comrades. But their fight was far from over, the assassin was determined to see that his work be done, but was slowly losing his focus and allowed his judgement to be clouded by the calm smirk on the aged warrior's lips. Finally having enough of their little dance, the assassin let out an outraged wail, the tried to stab the olde fighter with both his swords. But Theodore was more than ready.

Soon as the assassin was close enough, Theodore side-stepped to the left, blocked both swords with his own, the spun it into a reverse grip; locking the assassin's arm in place. The Battle Master held locked the arms tightly, then brought down his "bludgeon" down upon the swords; shattering the blades completely. He then pulled the assassin in and slammed his forearm into his chest, clothes lining him. As the assassin fell to the ground, Theodore twirled his sword to his "bludgeon", the resheathed it in a way like a Katana. With his opponent out of commission, Theodore felt that it was high time he get some answers.

It was at that moment that both Galwyn and Amy appeared, having witnessed the Battle Master finishing off what left of his assailants. "Theodore!"

Theodore looked to see both Galwyn and Amy rushing to him, when the leader got back to his feet and attempt to stab Theodore with his broken sword . . .

CRACK!

This had caught everyone's attention as they saw the assailant's weapon airborne. Standing next to the assailant was another figure who facial features were hidden by a hood. He wore green and a cape with gold lining, a grey tunic that hand two red lines in the shape on an 'X', dark-blue cape, and black pants and boots. In his hands was a six foot longstaff, of which was used to knock the assailant's weapon out of his hands. The figure followed up as he struck to the assassin's gut, back of his right knee, causing him to buckle to the ground, then strike to the face. The assassin fell with a loud thud to the ground, letting out a cry of pain. Though the appearance of the new figure was somewhat unnerving, the aged warrior remained calm.

"I had it under control, J'onn." Theodore grumbled, but smirked.

"It is pleasant to see you as well, Theodore." The figure stated casually.

It was no sooner that the two were met up by Galwyn and Amy. "Theodore, are you alright."

"Come now, lad, I have been through man a war. I will not be taken down by some lowly bandits like these pansies." Theodore then pulled the lead assassin to his feet from his neck. "Now then, who sent you here. And what do they want with Galwyn?"

"Galwyn? Who are you . . ." The assassin then took notice of the mentioned individual. "No . .. This cannot be! He is the one who resides here?!"

"Of course he does! Who else would would?" Theodore snarled. "Now answer me question! Who sent you?!"

"No . . . NO! He was to reside in this village! He was to be hidden amongst these people!"

"Who is 'he'?" J'onn questioned.

"The last of the-UGH!"

Much to everyone's shock, the assassin, began to scream and shrivel violently. After a few minuets, he fell limp in Theodore's grasp. The Battle Master removed the man's hood, revealing him to be between his thirties and forties, his head clean-shaven bald as well a face; an odd looking tattoo on the crown of his head that went down to his forehead. The tattoo itself was of a grey skull with a ferocious serpent through the right eye. His eyes seemed to be a dark-brown that almost appeared to be black . . . or at least used to be for they were now glassy and bloodshot. Foam was even leaking out of his mouth.

Theodore placed a finger on the assassin's neck to see if he still had a pulse. "He's dead. Doubtless so are the other bastards."

"Hm, by the foam from his mouth, I'd say it was Curarè." J'onn concluded, inspecting the foam from one of the assassin's mouth.

"Curarè? But I thought it was used as an anesthetic." Galwyn questioned.

"Normally so, but too much can be as lethal as poison." Theodore replied, then straightened himself and releasing his grip on the corpse. "And I take it their presence is why you are here, eh J'onn?"

"Not directly. But there is a matter of utmost importance that we need to discuss." J'onn stated, taking off his hood. His appearance, to say in the least, would be come as a shock to any normal person. Among those were Galwyn and Amy, for the the reveal of the hood showed he had green skin and completely red eyes. "I bring a message from the Society; the time has come . . ."

* * *

**Later That Night**

In a small tavern not to far from Theodore's hut a lone figure, a man that appeared to be in his mid-forties, sat as he finished up a mug of ale. Wasn't a feast he hoped for and he knew he was still going to be hungry afterwards, but it would suffice till he reached his destination. The man himself was fairly muscled, despite his age, with chiseled facial features and a clean shaven head, bare skin all around. His attire was of a black long-sleeved shirt, black gloves, red robes, brown leather pants, and black boots. Slung over his left shoulder was a longsword with a blade of four feet in length and the leather handle two-in-a-half. After paying for the drink, he decided to take his leave. But stopped soon as he noticed another patron grab a waitress by the wrist and pull her to him. From all the mugs on his table, the stranger could tell the man very drunken to the point of being unreasonable. Example showed when he tried to force a kiss from the waitress, though she was resisting.

The man appeared to be half-dwarf for his short stature, long beard and body covered in hair, even his manner of brutish This gained the drunk man a scowl from the stranger, and it was high time he put a stop to the commotion. He grabbed at the wrist and twisted it as he pulled the drunk face-to-face, scowling viciously with dark intent.

"That. Is. Not. How. You. Treat. A. Lady." The man growled, then pulled the offender into a punch to the face.

The dwarfish man stumbled back a bit, but regained his composure as he charged at the taller man in blind rage. His attacks were sloppy and desperate, making them all the more easy to dodge or redirect. The smaller man's rage became so overwhelming that his hand grabbed the closest thing near his target; the other man's sword! Everyone around gasped and screamed as they made haste out of the range of the blade. It was fortunate that the small man's swordsmanship was no better than his fist fighting. Unfortunately, the taller man seemed to adapt as he defended himself with nor more than the scabbard as he traded slashes with his stolen sword. The dwarf took another stab at the taller man. The was a mistake as the taller man merely side stepped and extended his right arm out, clothes lining the dwarf in the face and causing him to fall to the ground. Dazed, the dwarf tried to get back on his feet, only to feel a sharp pain on the back of his head. After that, his whole world went black. Above him, standing victorious as he retrieved his sword, was the stranger.

The man set a pouch of coins on a nearby table. "For the damages.", he said then turned and walked away.

The waitress was the first to snap out of shock. "Wait, kind sir, what name do you go by?"

The stranger turned and gave a smirk. "I am Alfred, no more, no less."

* * *

Voices (with British, Scottish, ect. accents):

Josh Keaton (English) as Galwyn Ginnis

Graham McTaversh (Celtic) as Theodore Grant

Susan Blakeslee as Leslie Thompkins

Emmanuelle Chirqure (English) as Amy Winston

Michael Donovan (English) as Assassin Leader

Colin Salmon as J'onn

J.B. Blanc as Alfred

* * *

**And there you have it, the first chap in LoS, hope it was enough to satisfy; I was kinda weening it a bit and had to do heavy research, but I'm pretty confident that I've done well enough. As I said before, if anyone that are experts on DC, doesn't matter who, has any pointers they're willing to share, do not hesitate to PM me. Well, with ought anything else to say, don't know what to say actually, I'll be on my way; stay cool an see ya later!**


End file.
